Lord Bradford raised an eyebrow. “Why?”
Warwick smiled. “I thought we’d make an adjustment to our bet, double the stakes. We both received a thousand pounds from Nathanial when he got married.”
Bradford frowned. There was nothing new there. “Yes, and we agreed that the next one to get married would owe the remaining survivor a thousand pounds.”
Warwick nodded as he leaned back to allow Jenson to place a plate of roast beef, potatoes, and carrots. “Yes, well if you think of it, you will only be passing on Caldwell’s money. Actually, that makes it no true cost when you lose. I thought we would double the stakes. Make the idea of getting married even more unpalatable.”
“Are you needing motivation to avoid marriage? I thought the institution itself would be more than enough.”
Warwick smiled. “No, I just believe that I am going to win, that you will marry before I do, and so, I hope to increase my winnings and make it even more painful for you.”
The young Earl studied his companion for a moment then nodded. “Very well. As I have no intentions of marrying any time soon and as there are not even prospects on the horizon. I feel comfortable increasing our wager.”
Warwick smiled around a forkful of beef and nodded. Bradford shrugged his shoulders and made the necessary entry in the club’s betting book. It was easy money. He didn’t need an heir. He had two younger brothers. He enjoyed the company of too many different women to ever limit himself to just one. Besides. he had never met a woman who captured his attention enough to want to spend the rest of his life with her. And he refused to become one of those old fools with a mistress or two on the side.
No, if he ever got married it would only be because he loved the woman. And as that seemed as if it would never happen, he was safe in his wager.
“So,” he said to Warwick as he handed the book back to Jensen, “tell me how things go in France?”
Warwick slowly shook his head. “Bad, they are always going bad and will continue to do so until someone finishes off that damn Napoleon.”
“Wellesley will do it,” Bradford said as he took another bite of food.
Warwick nodded then stopped and said, “Oh, I forgot the whole kidnapping rumor. It appears to have been a false lead.”
Bradford stopped eating, his fork halfway to his mouth while he waited for the details. If Warwick was right then there would be no need to inform Nathanial.
Warwick nodded. “My man traced the report. It seems a young man has become embroiled with a young woman of some wealth. Supposedly, the two of them have contrived to orchestrate a sham kidnapping, then elope to Gretna Green and marry before her family could stop them.”
“Who is the young lady?” Bradford asked.
Warwick shook his head. “I don’t know, nor do I have the identity of the young man. But since we can be assured that Olivia is not a man’s lover nor is she about to run to Scotland. I believe we can put aside our worries.
Bradford smiled all the while his stomach turned over. Would Olivia run off to Scotland to get married? Could she be a man’s lover, hiding it from everyone? No, he thought. First off, her brother had more contacts than the British government. Someone would have brought this story to his attention.
Besides. Olivia would never run or slink off in shame. If she was truly in love, she’d announce her intentions to the world and dare anybody to deny her.
Taking a quick sip of his wine, he nodded to himself. Yes, they could rest assured. Olivia was not involved. She might be many things, annoying, frustrating, insufferable, but she wasn’t a coward. She wouldn’t do anything to shame her family. It wasn’t in her.
No, he thought, Olivia wasn’t the target. That meant that for the first time in several weeks, he could begin to relax.
Chapter Four
Olivia waited for Henderson to open the door of the carriage then let him help her down. Glancing up, she examined the storefront while she waited for Amanda.
“I’m telling you,” she said as her friend joined her, “a baby cannot have too many toys.”
“The baby will be the child of one of the richest men in Great Britain, they will want for nothing.”
“Yes, but only an aunt can provide that special toy. The one they will love all of their lives.”
Amanda rolled her eyes as they entered yet another toy store looking for the perfect gift. Olivia laughed. Amanda had already purchased a small drum, something appropriate regardless. Olivia, however, was determined to purchase something for both a boy and a girl. They would not have a chance to return to London, so she was determined to be prepared either way.
The store greeted them with a warm smell of sawdust and lavender. A unique combination, Olivia thought until she saw the puppets sitting on the shelves. Dozens of them, marionettes, hand puppets, and masks. A child’s imaginary world.
Giraffes, pirates, ballerinas, princesses, and kings. Everything imaginable on display. Her heart skipped a beat. Something about puppets had always thrilled her. Perhaps it was the thought of being in control, she admitted to herself.
“Look at this,” Olivia said to Amanda as she removed a marionette of a little girl down from the shelf and tried to make it dance.
Amanda scoffed. “It’s not really a present for a baby.”
Olivia ignored her, what child wouldn’t love it. A beautifully made dress, painted cheeks blushing pink.
“It is beautiful,” she said to the shop owner. “Do you make these here?” she added.
A small, short man who looked as if he had come from the same world as his marionettes smiled and nodded. “Yes, M’Lady.”
Olivia nodded, choosing not to correct him. Too many people made the mistake thinking she was a Lady. The fancy carriage and expensive clothes led them to the wrong conclusion. If she spent all her time correcting them she would never get anything done.
Putting the small marionette back on the shelf, she began perusing the rest of his wares. She had learned long ago to never settle on the first find. Only after she had examined everything would she return to the marionette if she found nothing better.
A sudden crash and a muffled curse had her glancing towards the back room. Turning she observed the shop owner frowning deeply as he reached to open the back door. His hand had just touched the doorknob when it sprang open, forcing the man back with a start.
Olivia’s heart froze in place as two large men rushed in, both of them with scarfs pulled up to hide their face and each holding a pistol as if they knew how to use it.
“What?” the shop owner exclaimed as he obviously fought to understand what was happening. Olivia, unfortunately, understood immediately the danger she and Amanda were now facing. Turning, she rushed to the front door, if she could get away fast enough, Henderson could help.
“Hold,” one of the men barked. “Or your friend dies.”
Olivia’s stomach clenched up as if squeezed by a giant fist. The taller of the men was pointing his pistol at Amanda. He was so close he could never miss. Her heart dropped as she stopped her mad rush and froze in place.
“That’s a good Miss,” he said as he waved his pistol for her to join her friend.
Olivia swallowed hard and stepped over to stand next to Amanda. Perhaps there was a way. Keep them calm, then run when their attention dropped. That, or give them the money in her reticule and pray that it would be enough to satisfy them.
Her hopes were dashed however when the large man pulled a cloth bag from his pocket and handed his pistol to his partner.
“No,” Olivia said as the man opened the bag and took a step towards her. “My brother will kill you.”
The large man laughed. “He’s in Kent, we will be long gone before he gets here.”
Olivia’s heart began to race. They meant to kidnap her. That could be the only explanation. They knew of Nathanial’s absence and were going to use this opportunity. How much would they ask for ransom? She wondered.
Glancing at Amanda she silently to
ld her to be strong.
Amanda’s face was as white as a Christmas snow but there was a fierce determination in her eyes that comforted Olivia. Her friend would not fail her.
“We can do this easy, or we can do this hard,” the thug said as he brought the bag up. “Make trouble, and they die. It’s easy.”
Her heart fell again as an anger began to build inside of her. Once more she was being told what to do. But what choice did she have? The shopkeeper and Amanda’s life depended on her not making trouble.
Sighing heavily, she allowed the man to place the bag over her head.
The sudden darkness made her insides quiver. She was no longer in control. The thought sent a wave of fear through her. What would happen? What would these men do to her? And how did she stop them?
“Now your hands, if you please,” the man said as he grabbed her wrists and started wrapping a thin rope around them. The feeling of helplessness was overpowering.
No, she told herself. Think, observe, learn. There must be a way out she told herself. But only if she learned about what she was dealing with. That was the whole purpose behind the bag and the tied hands. Keep her frightened, too weak to fight back.
But she had her mind. They couldn’t take that from her.
Think.
The man’s accent was normal. Middle class, he didn’t sound like someone from the more dangerous part of town. A merchant’s son. Someone who had worked in a corner shop. How had he fallen to kidnapping young women?
A scar, the man had a ragged scar on his face, starting at his left temple then traveling down below the scarf. How had he gotten that? she wondered when her thoughts were interrupted.
“This way,” the man said as he grabbed her arm and began to lead her out of the store. The blindness was a troubling situation. Her world had disappeared and now she was reliant on this criminal to ensure she was not hurt. A troubling aspect to say the least.
He pulled her around the counter and into the back room.
Olivia pulled away from his grasp and turned back to where she thought Amanda still stood. “Tell Bradford,” she said to her friend. The criminal didn’t give Amanda a chance to reply. He pulled Olivia roughly by the arm and into the back room.
Twisting and turning her head, she tried to orient herself as he pulled her along and out the back door.
The fresh air and the strong aroma of horses told her that they were now outside, probably in a back alley. The jingle of a harness and the creak of a coach as someone shifted their weight let her know they had transportation ready. This was well planned, she realized.
They had waited until she and Amanda had entered a small shop. One where they could access from the back alley. One where they could get away without anyone seeing what they were doing.
“Here,” her accoster said as he roughly grabbed her foot and tried to place it on the step of a carriage.
“See here,” she exclaimed as she twisted away from him. “I won’t be…”
“Yes, you will, Miss,” the thug said as he grabbed her around the waist with large hands. Before she could even gasp at the violation, he lifted her off the ground, and threw her into the carriage head first.
Olivia bounced across the hard floor of the coach, hitting her head slightly on the far door. Never in her entire life had she experienced such humiliation. Such a sense of weakness. The feeling made her insides shiver with terror.
No, she told herself. Do not succumb. Do not let them know how afraid you are.
Gritting her teeth, she twisted, ready to fight, ready to kick and bite if necessary.
“Here,” the man said as she felt his hands grab her arm and pull her into a seat. “Can’t have a Lady sitting on the floor. Just wouldn’t do,” he added with a small laugh.
He resents me, she realized. Why? What had I ever done to him? Or is it Nathanial he is mad at? Again why? Of course, it could be any of a dozen business reasons. But no, it was something else. She was sure of it.
Where was his partner, the silent one?
Casting about with her mind she realized they were alone in the coach. No breathing. No strange man smell. It was just her and the larger criminal. Where was the other? Was he driving the coach, or was there a third man up on the box?
A thousand questions rushed through her mind as she desperately tried to understand what was happening.
“Where are you taking me?” she asked as she adjusted herself on the seat, leaning against the side of the coach to provide a little extra support. Being blind and bound left a person vulnerable to the smallest things, she realized as the coach took a sharp corner.
“Tell me,” she said again with just a hint of begging in her voice that she had been unable to hide, “Where are you taking me? Why are you doing this?”
A deathly silence settled over the coach as she waited for his answer.
“Damn you. Tell me,” she said as she swung her bound hands at where she believed he sat.
He grabbed her hands in midair, forcibly returning them to her lap. Holding them in place as he leaned in and whispered. “We only get paid if we deliver you unharmed. But then there are things I could do that his Lordship would never know. Things that a Lady like you might find enjoyable. Give me an excuse and I will teach you things that will change your world.”
Olivia’s stomach fell as she scrunched away from the evil man. Her world was crumbling. He was serious, she realized. He would abuse her if she gave him reason to. It was in the tone of his voice, the excitement she had heard. He was hoping she would give him an excuse.
Biting her lip, she continued to stay into the corner and kept quiet. Forcing herself to stay silent less she give him a reason to take action.
No, she thought. Keep yourself alive. Nathanial would do something. Or maybe Jocko. Why had she told Amanda to inform Bradford? Warwick had more contacts. Nathanial had more money, and Jocko was meaner than anyone she knew when it came to something like this. So why had she asked for Bradford?
The thought was unsettling on so many levels.
Chapter Five
Lord Bradford stormed into Nathanial’s home without knocking.
“What is the meaning of this?” he yelled as he waved a piece of paper.
Lord Warwick, Olivia’s friend Amanda, Jocko, Benson the butler, and Henderson, the footman all turned to look at him as he made his entrance.
The look of fear in their eyes told him all he needed to know. It was true. Olivia had been taken. The thought sent a burst of anger straight through him. This would not be allowed to continue. He would kill the man responsible.
“That is what I am trying to ascertain,” Warwick said with that maddeningly calm voice of his. Glancing at Amanda he raised an eyebrow and nodded.
The young woman’s face was white with fear. Hesitating for a moment, she took a deep breath.
“As I said in the note. Olivia was kidnapped.”
Bradford bit his lip to stop himself from yelling at the woman. He needed more.
“It seems,” Warwick said, stepping in for her, “that Olivia was taken from a toy shop on Brantley Avenue. About an hour ago.”
“Who? Why?” Bradford demanded.
Warwick shook his head, “We don’t know yet.”
“I should have been with her,” Jocko said with a shake of his head. “But once Lord Warwick informed me the danger had passed. I thought Henderson alone would be enough for the ladies.”
Bradford bit back the accusing slur he had been tempted to give. Instead, he turned to the footman for an explanation.
The young man looked as guilty as a murderer caught in the act. “I’m sorry My lord. I was outside with the carriage. The shop looked harmless. Only an old man behind the counter. It was a toy store,” he added, as if unable to believe that anyone could use a toy store for something so nefarious.
“It isn’t Henderson’s fault,” Amanda said quickly. “He was only doing what he had been instructed by Olivia. She hates being watched over.”
Bradford sighed heavily. She was right. Olivia despised being cared for. She was like a young colt, always wanting to run free.
Forcing himself to regain some control of the emotions racing through him. He turned to Warwick.
“What do you know?”
Warwick shook his head. “I’ve put out the word to all of my contacts. And my people will report to me here. But nothing yet.”
Bradford nodded, he expected no less, it was too soon. A frown on Amanda’s face caught his attention as she examined Warwick. He thought about dismissing her so that he could explore all of Warwick’s secret world, but he couldn’t afford to risk her not seeing an important fact. Something that would be the key.
“And have you sent word to France?” he asked. “They might try to take her there.”
Amanda gasped as her eyes grew very big. Warwick glanced at her, obviously wondering how much he should expose. At last, he nodded.
“I’ve sent word to my people in France and to every smuggler between here and Cornwall. They know that his Majesties’ government will rain a wall of terror down on their heads if they involve themselves in this matter.”
Amanda’s face grew even whiter as she realized who he was. Bradford shook it off, he couldn’t worry about that at the moment.
“Jocko,” he said. “I need you to scour the docks. Use every contact you or Nathanial have and put the word out. A reward, I should thin., A king's ransom. If Nathanial won’t pay it, I will. For any word. Do you understand?
The Old Breton nodded. Then frowned. “I don’t think they will use the docks. Too many people know Nathanial. Too many people know me. I would have been warned.
Bradford nodded in agreement, “But, we can’t risk it. You cover that area.”
Jocko nodded as he turned to leave.
“Benson,” Bradford said. “Has word been sent to Nathanial?”
“Yes, My Lord,” the butler said. “I dispatched Thomas as soon as Miss Amanda Informed us.”
Catching A Rake (A Rake's Redemption Book 3) Page 3
